


End of the Line

by Eponin



Category: Magnificent Seven (TV), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-23
Updated: 2010-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-06 15:09:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eponin/pseuds/Eponin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Remy LeBeau and Ezra Standish had known each other as children?  Written for the Magnificent 7 Crossover Lyric Wheel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	End of the Line

Angry voices echoed down the long hallway and up the stairs, reaching the ears of the two boys huddled on the top step.

"He's going to make us go away, you know," drawled the youngest. His voice quivered a little, though it was obvious to his companion that he was trying to hide his fear.

"Yep. Know dat, Ez."

Ezra Standish sighed and rubbed his eyes. Eleven years old and he was being kicked out of another home.

"Not your fault, mon ami," Remy told him, rubbing his back lightly. "Maude, she just can' seem t' help it."

"She never can. I just wish for once she'd think her plans all the way through! I'm tired of moving."

A door slammed downstairs and the two boys looked at each other, then slowly stood up. Ezra forced a smile in Remy's direction, then turned and headed slowly for his room. He entered, shutting the door behind him, then paused and leaned back against the door, resting his head on its cool surface. A single tear trickled down his cheek before he wiped it away, angry with himself for allowing even that tiny thread of emotion to show.

He looked around the single room he had lived in for the last two years. There was nothing special about it, save that he called it home. He pushed himself away from the door and headed over to the closet, pausing only at the bed to reach underneath and pull out his suitcase. He knew Jean Luc LeBeau would never allow them to stay here now that he'd discovered the con his mother was running.

He looked guiltily at the door. He'd never been welcome here again. Maude had let Jean Luc think Ezra himself had been knowingly a part of the con. Ezra laughed bitterly. Knowingly. Yes, he had known Maude was planning a con, but even he, her own son, had had no idea of its scope. And now it had cost him the only place he'd ever called home, the only place that had let him be himself. That hurt.

He should have known what she was planning. She'd done it often enough before this, but he'd allowed himself to be lulled into complacency. So much time had gone by, and they'd stayed in this one place for so long now, that Ezra had been sure that she had given up the con and settled in here, as he had. This place suited them so well. Their talents were utilized, and they had a family here. Well, they had had a family here. Past tense. Now... now they wouldn't be coming back. Ever.

He pulled open the closet door and started removing his clothes from their hangers. He stuffed them haphazardly in his suitcase, not caring that they were balled up and wrinkled. Maude would have chided him for forgetting that appearances meant everything, but right now, Ezra couldn't bring himself to care.

There was a light tap on his door and Ezra froze for a moment before turning to answer it. Jean Luc LeBeau stood outside.

Ezra quietly stepped aside, letting the head of the New Orleans Thieves Guild enter. He didn't say anything to Jean Luc, simply went back to his closet and continued putting clothes in his suitcase.

"Why?" the voice was soft and disappointed.

Ezra shrugged. There was no point in explaining himself. He wouldn't be believed. Experience had taught him that, and he was sure Maude had done her usual bang-up job at getting them both alienated.

LeBeau sighed. "I trusted y' both, y' know. Thought Maude was going t' be a partner. I can understand her b'trayal. Its the way she is. But I never expected you t' be part of it."

Ezra flinched, but still said nothing. There was nothing to say. The situation was partly his fault. He had known what his mother was planning, even if he had thought she had given up the idea, he had known once. In that light, he was guilty.

Jean Luc sighed again when Ezra didn't speak and ran his fingers through his hair. "Y' both got an hour t'leave. Don't come back to N'Orleans." He stood and left the room.

Ezra's shoulders sagged, but he resolutely kept packing away his belongings. He didn't have much. He and Maude had always moved around too much for him to cultivate too many material possessions.

"Y' okay, homme?" Remy's voice drifted over from the door.

Ezra shrugged. He, who loved to talk, seemed to have lost his voice. He just couldn't force any sound past the lump that seemed permanently lodged in his throat.

Remy walked up behind him and placed his hands on Ezra's shoulders, turning the younger boy around to face him. "Ez. Look at me?" Remy tilted Ezra's chin up, forcing him to look up.

Ezra looked into Remy's strange red and black eyes and found himself forcing back tears. He couldn't cry. Not now. Mother would be here any second and he didn't need a lecture from her on top of everything else that was going wrong today.

"Its not your fault, mon ami," Remy said softly. "Don' be feelin' guilty for what she did. I know y' had nothing t' do with it."

Ezra laughed. "But I did. Don't you see? Even if I didn't know the details, I knew she had been planning a con and didn't tell anyone. That makes it my fault."

Remy shook his head. "Non. T'at makes it her fault. Y' only eleven, homme. Y' can' be made responsible for her decisions."

Ezra just shrugged and Remy knew he wasn't getting through.

"Look, Ez. I know y' don't believe me, but its true. And no matter what ev'ryone else t'inks, I know y' didn' have anyt'ing t' do wit' her con. I'm still y' friend. Always will be. If y' need m', just yell an' I'll come. You're m' brother. I'll always stand by you."

Ezra blinked, surprise showing briefly on his face before he managed to subsume the expression and hide it behind his usual poker face. He looked at Remy.

"Yes. Really," Remy replied, answering the unspoken question. "Y' know m' address. Write. I won' forget y'."

"Thanks," Ezra said hoarsely.

"Ezra, darlin'," Maude's melodious voice called from the hallway, breaking the moment.

"Yes, Mother."

"We need to leave, darlin'. Are you ready?"

"Almost." Ezra forced a smile and looked up at Remy. "I'll write," he promised.

"Good." Remy replied. He hugged Ezra and headed for the door. He paused in the doorway. "Don' forget what I said."

Ezra looked at him solemnly. "I won't." he said, saluting his only friend. Remy disappeared and Maude swept into the room, her skirts flaring out behind her.

"Lets go, darlin', we're in somewhat of a hurry."

Ezra sighed. "Yes, Mother." He looked up at her as he zipped his suitcase closed. "Where are we going?"

Maude shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Somewhere new and excitin'. What do you think about New York?"

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Lyrics: "I'll Stand By You" - The Pretenders


End file.
